


What's Up

by Duarte89



Category: Bleach
Genre: Awkward Romance, Because of Reasons, F/M, M/M, Nnoitra's dirty mouth, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duarte89/pseuds/Duarte89
Summary: Just because I wanted to.  Title and general vibe of Nnoitra inspired by What's Up by 4 Non Blondes.Not beta'd or edited since I'm too impatient right now, sorry.





	1. Where he has horrible luck

**Author's Note:**

> Just because I wanted to. Title and general vibe of Nnoitra inspired by What's Up by 4 Non Blondes. 
> 
> Not beta'd or edited since I'm too impatient right now, sorry.

He had horrible luck with women. Nnoitra liked to think it was because they were all demented witches in disguise, laughing at him from behind fake masks with plastic smiles. The truth was probably because he was a grade A asshole with mommy issues. Nnoitra didn’t exactly have the best childhood upbringing, it left him with literal scars that never let him move past it. Said scars also had a way of making said women shy away from him. Nnoitra did the best he could covering it up, making it so that they wouldn’t see the damaged eye, but after a while a man got tired of all the flinches and the morbid fascinated stares.

A warm hole wasn’t worth the fucking aggravation.

So he gave up on dating, gave up on looking for lucky Mrs. Nnoitra Gilga. Instead he went to shitty bars, drank just shy of piss drunk, and fucked the women he met there. Not too classy to not get down for a one nighter, but not too trashy that Nnoitra looked like a pathetic loser. He made sure never to get women who were too damn drunk, because even though he didn’t want conversation or strings, he didn’t want to fuck a comatose corpse.

Tonight was such a night. The air was humid with car exhaust and cigarette smoke and Nnoitra felt the itch start in his gut since he left work hours ago. Because of his eye, Nnoitra wasn’t allowed to have a driver’s license. Not because he couldn’t damn well see in his other eye, but because the fucking lady at the DMV had a bitterness to all mankind and Nnoitra had had enough of all her potshots that she thought he couldn’t hear her mutter under her breath. He had an eye patch on to cover his bad eye, he wasn’t fucking deaf. Of course the DMV lady hadn’t liked that and so he had been denied. Nnoitra could have just taken it and tried again later, or even ask to speak to the manager, but he had a horrible temper and suffered no one. Patience was not a word that Nnoitra was too familiar with. So he had been banned to that specific driver’s license office for having cursed out the entire DMV staff before exiting the building with middle fingers held high. Anyway, because of that he couldn’t drive cars but he could make their engines purr like no one’s business. With muscles sore from being bent over cars all damn day, Nnoitra stepped off the bus and took in a deep breath of the night air before stepping into his favorite dive bar.

The dark interior, lit up by red signs of beer brands, showed a semi packed night. People from all walks of life littered about the place, talking too loud with too pink cheeks and hands waving too much to resemble anything sober. The smoke of cigarettes caused a slight haze in the air, the speakers blasting some rock song that blurred into the background. Nnoitra wasted no time in walking up to the bar and making a space for himself.

“Hey, watch it pal.”

Nnoitra turned and looked down with a scowl, “You got something to say, _pal_?”

The man who had called him out looked up and up and closed his mouth at seeing the eyepatch. Shaking his head the man threw down a five and walked away.

Nnoitra tracked his progress until he lost interest and looked back at the bartender, “Hey Tesra, the usual.”

Tesra, proud owner of The Drowning Monkey, gave Nnoitra a nod and pulled out a clean glass cup and poured in a dark larger. “No fighting, take it outside Nnoitra.”

“If anyone ever gathers up the balls to fight me I will Tes.” Nnoitra joked before taking a deep pull of the beer. “So, anyone interesting?”

Tesra leaned in close, “Green hair, kinda on the short side though. Real bubbly, she’s with some friends in the left corner.”

Nnoitra took a sip and looked in the direction that he was told. Four women in total. The bubbly green haired girl was right smack in the middle, head thrown back in laughter and one hadn gripping onto a black haired woman’s arm. Said woman was pushing her glasses up in boredom, focused on her phone. The woman on the other side was even shorter with a compact body that showcased lithe muscles. Her blonde hair was styled in two spike pony tails and even from his spot at the bar Nnoitra could see the sharp brown eyes and even sharper teeth. The last woman was a brown skinned beauty that was sipping on a dark larger and looking about the bar with a lazy eye. Nnoitra knew right away why Tesra had singled out the green haired woman, out of all of them she seemed the easiest to convince if she wanted to have a fun night.

Just then the dark skinned woman caught sight of him and gave him the most dangerous smile that Nnoitra ever had the misfortune of receiving. It was like being caught by a cat, all teeth and claws ready to pounce on him. Nnoitra stilled and took another sip of his drink. He watched as she leaned across the table and whispered something to the green haired woman. Nnoitra didn’t know what the fuck was going on, and he didn’t know if he liked it either.

The green haired woman looked up with doe brown eyes and locked onto him. Nnoitra watched as she eyed him up and down like a piece of meat and give her friend a too wide smile. Nnoitra had the unpleasant feeling that he wasn’t going to fuck tonight…instead he was going to be fucked. Taking another sip, because Nnoitra wasn’t a little bitch to back down from a woman who was now obviously out on the hunt, he watched as she left the table with her friends causing such an uproar that Nnoitra wondered why people thought men were the only ones able to act like fucking sex-crazed beasts.

Nnoitra had the span of one breath when suddenly the green haired woman was right in front of him, practically jumping up and down with excitement. “Hey.” He greeted calmly as he looked down into warm brown eyes.

“Hi yourself handsome.” The woman said with a playful grin. “So my friend says that you look lonely tonight.”

“I’d say your friend could be right. You looking to keep my company tonight?” Nnoitra shot back with a smirk. Stepping in close, her fruity perfume wafting up to him, Nnoitra could feel her chest brush against his ribs.

“If you wouldn’t mind? Maybe we could go somewhere more…private?” She said as she walked her fingers up his stomach.

“You got a place in mind?” He asked because she looked like the type to have a car and a cleaner place then a shitty motel.

“I’m Mashiro,” she said as she tugged at his belt hoop, “come on, I know a place.”

So Nnoitra Gilga, not even in the same universe as buzzed or drunk, followed an equally sober Mashiro and her gaggle of friends to a small little house three blocks away. While he had felt a little weirded out, and be little he meant a fucking lot, that her friends were coming with and sent out sharp whistles as Mashiro led him to a dark room, Nnoitra kept his mouth shut and subtly felt his pocket for condoms.

Feeling a sense of relief at the touching the outline of the foil package, Nnoitra blinked in surprise when he felt deft hands pulling at his pants. “Oh, okay.” Following her example, Nnoitra tugged at her dress and what followed was a night full of the most sober, weird, but also hot sex that he has ever had.

Somewhere during the late hours Nnoitra and his dick finally bowed out and dropped onto the bed exhausted. As he closed his eye, his damaged one shut against the softness of the pillow, he caught a glimpse of fair sweaty skin moving away from him with a satisfied giggle. It didn’t take long for his mind to shut down, spreadeagled face down on the mattress.

 

* * *

 

 

“Well, this is a nice surprise.”

Nnoitra groaned at the voice that was disturbing his sleep, hoping it would go away.

“As much as I _love_ seeing all that beautiful skin on display, I really have to ask you to wake up.”

Frowning Nnoitra opened his eye and saw darkness. Too tired to move his hair out of his face Nnoitra laid there, limbs spread out in a looseness that was rare for him to feel, and wondered if that fucking Mashiro freak slipped him anything because the voice sounded too deep to be female. Only that didn’t add up to his memories, which were full off candy, embarrassing positions and too much lube to be drugged or drunken memories. “Mashiro?” He asked a with sleep rough voice.

“Ah, so you were the lucky guy of the night.” The man said with a laugh. “Mashiro and her lovely lady friends sometime early this morning as I was coming back home. They left in happy moods, Mashiro in particular left with a limped spring in her step. Needless to say that they failed to mention that they left a delicious piece of man in my bed for me to find when I finished my shower, but ah thems the breaks.”

Nnoitra stiffened with every passing word that the man said, feeling around with his foot for the bed covers.

“Oh, here you go.” The man said with an audible smile.

Nnoitra snatched the covers and tugged them up until they were under his chin. “Who are you?”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, I won’t compromise your virtue.”

With his body covered Nnoitra finally pushes his hair out of his face and looks at the supposed owner of the house who had been staring at his ass for fucks knows how long. The man himself was half naked, with a lean build and wet blonde hair that trailed down to touch his broad shoulders. His water logged hair covered the man’s eyes but Nnoitra had no doubt that his eyes were tracking Nnoitra’s every movement.

Deciding that he was in a very vulnerable position on the bed, Nnoitra gathers up the covers and pulls them up and around him in a half-assed toga in order to stand. Now on equal footing with the strange man, Nnoitra can’t help but notice that the blonde man is a foot shorter then him. “Listen, my foul for getting fucked on your bed,” Nnoitra said because he hadn’t been wrong about Mashiro being the one doing the fucking, “but as soon as I find my clothes I’ll be out of your hair.”

The man tips his head back, bringing his face into the sun that’s filtering in through half closed blinds, and Nnoitra sees that he has grey eyes and stubble on his jaw. “No rush friend, I’m Kisuke but everyone usually calls me Urahara.”

Nnoitra watches as a hand is stretched out to him and Nnoitra finds himself clasping it against his better judgement. He couldn’t damn well refuse considering he had sex on Kisuke’s bed and then proceeded to knock the fuck out on it. “Nnoitra.”

Kisuke smiles slowly at him, “Pleasure to meet you Nnoitra.”

Nnoitra feels a chill run up his spine, and not because the AC decided to kick in just then. With his hand firmly held in Kisuke’s grasp, smile aimed at him and grey eyes slowly raking down his linen covered body, Nnoitra felt like a mouse under a hungry cat’s gaze again.

Not knowing whether to drop kick Kisuke or not Nnoitra instead does nothing in his frozen state. Soon enough his hand is being released and Kisuke steps past him, releasing him from the odd moment. “Yeah…likewise.”

“There’s coffee in the kitchen if you want.” Kisuke says as he opens a drawer and pulls out a pair of tight boxer briefs littered with dancing pineapples.

Nnoitra stares at the underwear before slowly backing away and looking at the floor for his plain black, _normal,_ underwear.

“Looking for these?” Kisuke asks with a laugh.

Nnoitra looks over his shoulder to see the eccentric man holding out his underwear by the waistband. Reaching out with his long arm, Nnoitra snatches it and angrily puts it on, “Gimme that you freak.”

“Who’s really the freak though?” Kisuke has the nerve to ask him.

Nnoitra looks up curse ready on the tip of his tongue when he sees Kisuke pointing to the side. Following where he’s pointing Nnoitra sees the half empty jar that brought on a fierce blush. “Shut up.”

Kisuke grins at him, “So, how was it?”

“I can’t believe you’re seriously asking me that.”

“Why not? It’s not like Mashiro is ever coming back here.”

“How do you know that?”

“Last night was her going away party. She’s leaving the country to go live in Germany, her job offered her a transfer that was too good to down turn. Yoruichi said she wanted to go out with a bang.” Kisuke tells him as he pulls on his underwear not caring if he gave Nnoitra an eye full of his dick.

Nnoitra pulls on his shirt and hurriedly sticks his feet in his boots, not bothering to lace them up. He zips up his pants as he spots his eye patch, not wasting time in hauling it over his head. “Perfect. Well this is has fun but I gotta go and join the real world. Thanks for your bed, later.” With that Nnoitra hauls ass from the bedroom, leaving an amused Kisuke behind. Passing the kitchen, and the amazing smell of caffeine, Nnoitra walks out the front door and walks to the nearest bus stop.

Leaning against the pole, eye squinting against the sun, Nnoitra can’t help but chuckle at what happened. “Man that was some crazy shit. Still, with luck I won’t be seeing him any time soon.”

 

* * *

 

 

Little did Nnoitra know that back in the small little house Kisuke finds a cellphone that isn’t his. Pressing on the screen he gives a happy hum when it doesn’t have a lock. Scrolling through the texts he confirms that it does indeed belong to the man with the one eye and amazing skin.

“I’ll be seeing you sooner rather then later Nnoitra.” Kisuke sang before slipping the phone in his drawer.


	2. Hello darkness my old friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nnoitra hears someone pick-up and immediately launches into the attack, "Whoever the fuck this is, I don't care if you stole it like a dick. Just meet me at The Drowning Monkey in an hour and I'll give you fifty bucks to return it the phone to me." Nnoitra thinks its a good deal, fifty bucks and not even a threat to having their ass kicked. 
> 
> Of course this is all before he hears the voice, and the name and that old familiar chill runs up his spine. 
> 
> "Well hello there sweetheart. I'd wonder when you'd come a calling Nnoitra. Just in case you forgot, which I doubt since our first meeting was just delicious, it's Urahara, Kisuke Urahara."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup, here's another. Had to jam out to What's up by 4 Non Blondes because 1) its an awesome song and remindsme Nnoitra and 2) SENSE8 IS COMING BACK!!! 
> 
> True that its only for a two hour special BUT STILL. 
> 
> Not beta'd, sorry peeps.

"So you can't answer the phone?" Baraggan says as soon as Nnoitra walks into the garage.

Nnoirta slows his steps and looks over to the old man that Nnoitra swears is older then time itself. Old man Baraggan Louisenbairn has looked the same since Nnoitra could walk. White hair, sun tanned skin, wrinkles that seemed to drag his face into a permanent disappointed expression-although that could be because they lived on the 'wrong' side of the tracks. Nnoitra had grown up hiding away most of the time in his shop, away from the shrill voice of his demented mother and drunken father. Old man Baraggan had only looked at his rail thin kid self and told him that if he ever caught him stealing he'd dump his ass in the river. 

The craziest shit is that Nnoitra had believed him. No one got scars like Old man Baraggan had by throwing out fucking bluffs. 

When the shit with his eye happened, Nnoitra had run to the garage. Blood dripping down his face, flooding his mouth like a sick syrup that tasted like rusted metal and pain blinding him. Old man Baraggan lived in his garage, a little section connected by a hallway to the back where he had a studio like place. Nnoitra had run to the garage as fast as his thin twelve year legs could take him. Baraggan had opened the door as soon as Nnoitra started banging on it with his bloodied fist. 

_"Who the fu-" Baraggan snarled before he stopped. "Nnoitra?"_

It was the first time in his life that Nnoitra had ever heard his name said like that, with fucking concern. 

Since then, through foster homes and one arrest of shoplifting before Old man Baraggan found out and set his ass straight and ultimately ended up adopting him, Old man Baraggan was his dad. Didn't matter if it wasn't by blood; what mattered was the old man fucking being there with him at the hospital; by being there to haul his ass to the court, made sure that he'd complete his community service and all the other shit he had to do to get his record sealed. To Nnoitra Old man Baraggan was more his family than anyone else. 

So when the Old man starts the day with that much attitude packed into his voice and arms crossed against his broad chest Nnoitra doesn't in fact answer with a quip of  _What's it to you motherfucker._ Instead Nnoitra stops, stares at the old man that has a matching one eyed thing going on and says, "Huh?"

Old man Baraggan rolls his only eye and shakes his head, "I called you about five times to tell you not to come in."

Nnoitra follows after his father/boss/friend/saviour into the studio with a frown, already patting down his jumpsuit. "Why you closing the shop? Fuck, I know I have it fucking somewhere..."

Old man Baraggan steps into the kitchen and pours a cup of coffee, sliding it across to Nnoitra just how he likes it, black like his soul. "I got a date."

Nnoitra is sipping on the sugarless elixir of the gods when he hears that little tidbit and promptly chokes. Coffee dribbling down his chin,  _both_ eyes watering and  **fuck** that burns the left side of his face. " _FUUUUUUCCCKKK_." He groans as he doubles over and tries his hardest not to reach up and grip his face. He's learned from the past that doesn't hold back the pain. 

"Damn son, didn't think I'd get quite the reaction." Old man Baraggan says with a huff. 

Nnoitra swallows down another curse, because fuck all he recognizes that tone of voice. It's the same tone of voice that Old man Baraggan had when Nnoirta was sixteen and thinking he was hot shit. 

_"You're not my fucking father, stay the fuck out of my life!"_

_"...Wasn't trying to be your father."_

Nnoitra had felt like shit the second he had said it, had felt like shit warmed over and shitted on again when Old man Baraggan said that. Cuz Nnoitra did want him to be his father and he was a angsty motherfucker who was raging at the world. 

"No," Nnoitra wheezes out, "no. I mean yeah?" 

God, why was he such an awkward fucker?

Old man Baraggan smiles quickly behind his cup, two creams and four sugars, "Yeah?"

Nnoitra clears his throat, his left eye throbbing in pain but he grits through it like a pro, and looks up, "You've never dated before...I mean I thought Sayuri was the one for you." Sayuri Louisenbairn, Nnoitra's only ever seen pictures of her-the black and white ones. Short wavy hair, great smile and always wearing those weird shoes-geta shoes, Nnoitra had looked it up at school since Old man Baraggan dragged him every morning making sure he didn't grow up an  _'uneducated heathen'_.

Old man Baraggan fidgets with his cup, looking at a picture of his wife forever young before looking back at him. "She'll always be teh one son, and since-well since then I haven't met anyone even worth a second look...but..."

Nnoitra can't help but feel fascinated watching the old man fucking blush like a twelve year old girl. Lips curling up and revealing a too toothy smile Nnoitra leans againt the counter, the slowly fading pain from his eye not enough to dampen this moment, and sings, "You old dog you, so tell me all about this woman. She's gotta be fucking top notch to catch  **your** eye."

Old man Baraggan gives him a flat look, "You are not funny."

"Ah come on, tell me." Nnoitra says with the same Cheshire grin. 

After acting like he doesn't want to spill his guts to Nnoitra, the old man finally breaks. 

"Her name is Kirio Hikifune. She's a bit younger than me, she's a housekeeper to some old rich family up north and we met when her car broke down nearby." Old man Baraggan says in one breath. 

Nnoitra chuckles, "Just _how_ young is she?"

"Shut your mouth," Old man Baraggan snaps with a blush, "she's in her forties."

Nnoitra frowns as he does some math, "So she's like eighteen years older than me. Not bad, old man not bad at all."

"I'm not  _that_ old, for fucksake." 

" _Yeah?"_ Nnoitra teases. 

" _Yeah_ ," Old man Baraggan mocks back with a roll of his eye, "I'm only fifty-nine dammit."

"So you've always looked like an old man with a chip on his shoulder huh?" Nnoitra can't help but tease before ducking a rogue hand towel.

"Out!" Old man Baraggan shouts good-naturedly with a half-grin. 

As Nnoitra walked out of the garage he hears the old man yell at him to find his damn phone. He wasn't going to keep him on the phone plan if he kept losing them. 

 

* * *

 

"Still haven't found that phone huh son?" 

"Get to second base with your hot date huh old man?"

 

* * *

 

 

"Yo Nnoitra I was trying to call you to ask if we could switch shifts. I got my kid's recital and Luna will kill me if I miss it. Don't worry though, boss man said you have no plans and were good to cover. Thanks man!"

Nnoitra just stares as Ganju, his co-worker that habitually talked on and on about his family but always brought the best fucking food in the world at the potlucks, ran past him, tugging on a jacket and the fear that only a woman can put in a man's eyes. "The fuck old man? I had plans with Tes tonight."

"Maybe you should find that phone of yours, then maybe you wouldn't have to call Tes and break his heart by taking a rain check."

 

* * *

 

"So-"

"No, old man, I still haven't found it. I must have fucking lost it at Tes's place."

" _Oh_ ," Old man Baraggan says with a devilish grin, "I didn't know that you'd finally decided to put that poor boy out of his misery and show him all about your ' _sacred mantis mo'-_ "

Nnoitra lunges across the old Corolla he's fixing to slap a grease stained hand across the old man's traitorous mouth. " _Shut the fuck up about that!_ " He whisper yells, looking around the garage to make sure no one heard the old man reference the stupid name he used to call his budding sexual prowress moves. He'd been fifteen, sue him. "And for the last time, I'm not fucking Tes, and he doesn't want to fuck me. We're friends."

"If you say so," Old man Baraggan says with a grin, wiping his mouth with a rag, "but seriously fucking find the phone. I'm not going to pay for another one _and_ hear you bitch and moan about your contacts and apps." 

"That was  _one_ time, for fucksake." Nnoitra groans before turning back to the car. 

 

* * *

 

 

After a damn week, turning his apartment upside down and frog marching Tes to open his bar during the daylight to search every corner, Nnoitra finally relented in admitting that he had lost his phone.

So cursing up a storm and glaring lightning from his eye that sends everyone lunging out of his six foot six frame path, Nnoitra walks down the street in search for a pay phone. Spotting one, daring it to not be in service, he picks up the handset and hears a dial tone. "That's what I goddamn thought fucker." Not caring that he sounds completely demented to those walking close by to hear him and send nervous looks his way, Nnoitra practically punches his phone number after feeding it some change. He stands there, narrowing his eye when he hears it ring. 

Now normally that'd be a good thing, seeing at how he fucking needs to find it...but...it's been missing for a week. No phone, not even in this day and age of technological advances and shit, would still have juice after a week. 

So it begs the fucking question, who in the hell has been keeping his phone alive?

Nnoitra hears someone pick-up and immediately launches into the attack, "Whoever the fuck this is, I don't care if you stole it like a dick. Just meet me at The Drowning Monkey in an hour and I'll give you fifty bucks to return it the phone to me." Nnoitra thinks its a good deal, fifty bucks and not even a threat to having their ass kicked. 

Of course this is all before he hears the voice, and the name and that old familiar chill runs up his spine. 

"Well hello there sweetheart. I'd wonder when you'd come a calling Nnoitra. Just in case you forgot, which I doubt since our first meeting was just  _delicious_ , it's Urahara, Kisuke Urahara."

Nnoitra tightens his grip on the pay phone, hunching into the steel graffiti covered walls for privacy and looks about in paranoia. "What the fuck are you doing with my phone?"

Urahara laughs low, his voice deepening into a teasing tenor, "You left it in my bed."

Nnoitra blushes with embarrassment, "Don't say it like that asshole. Just. Fucking meet me to give it back."

"Gotta say the magic word first sweetheart." Urahara needles. 

"The fuck I do." Nnoitra hisses into the mouthpiece. 

"Say goodbye to it then, I've always wanted a free upgrade." Urahara says as his voice grows faint. 

"No!" Nnoitra yells and scares a five year and his mother who whispers to him to not look at the crazy man. "...Please."

"Please what?" Urahara whispers back. 

Nnoitra tightens his hand into a fist and swears that the second he has Urahara in front of him he's going to knock his teeth out and make  _him_ say please. "Please meet me so that you may so kindly give me back my cellphone." Nnoitra says through a clenched jaw and hot anger. 

Urahara stays quiet a moment longer and hums with satisfaction, "Okay! But it'll have to be in three days."

"The fuck Urahara!" Nnoitra snaps and snarls into the phone. 

"I'm unfortunately out of town on business. I took the phone with me just in case you called. I'll be back around six in the evening. I trust you remember how to get to my house?" Urahara asks with a business like tone. 

Frowning and breathing hard like an enraged bull Nnoitra glares at anyone who meets his eye as he looks out to the foot traffic on the sidewalk. "Yes, I remember."

"Perfect, see you then!" Urahara chirps before hanging up on him. 

Nnoitra stares at the phone, the sidewalk, the sky before looking back at the phone. Taking a deep breath Nnoitra slams it down with all his strength, "Fuck you you fucking piece of fucking shit." He walks off, cursing Urahara to the nine circles of hell and stares down anyone who even looks like they have something to say to him. 

Making it back to the garage the old man looks up from he chair, and even before he opens his mouth to ask about the phone Nnoitra bares his teeth at him. 

"I found it. I'll get it back in three days. Now you can please give me the fucking password to Hulu?" Nnoitra reigns in his anger the best he can. 

Old man Baraggan eyes his pseudo-son and knows that whoever it is that has Nnoitra's phone does not know what he's messing with. "Alright. Come on, flip the sign. I heard about this one show from Kirio that's supposedly really good. It's called The Handmaiden's Tale."

Nnoitra allows himself to be herded into the studio after he flips the sign to say closed. He lets the old man push him down on the plush couch, handed a soda and a bowl of pretzels and squished by the old man who plomps down next to him. By the third episode Nnoitra feels his muscles relax and slouches down enough so he can lay his head on the old man's strong shoulder. 

Old man Baraggan doesn't say a word, knowing that Nnoitra isn't the most positively expressive person that he knows. He's skittish like a baby rabbit and one has to tread lightly to even gain access to his inner gooey center. It took him four years to crack him, and that was when Nnoitra was a fumbling teenager. Now at the ripe old age of twenty-eight, Nnoitra's locked up his emotional side tighter then a steel trap. Instead he starts humming a song that Sayuri had taught him long ago and not long after he has an armful of long limbs and even longer dark hair sprawled on him. 

"Oh son, you gotta stop letting your anger get the better of you." Old man Baraggan whispers before getting up and arranging Nnoitra's long limbs on the couch and covering him with a blanket. 

In the morning Nnoitra wakes up calm and with the smell of bacon cooking. Closing his eye he pushes Urahara and the phone at the back of his mind. His old man is frying up food and no one is going to ruin it. 

 

* * *

 

 

In a small little town Urahara plays with the cellphone, having seen every picture in the gallery and found no selfies. Only pictures of sunrises, sunsets, a blonde man flipping the camera off with a grin, an old man with a heavy scar running down his right eyeless socket and an adorably black dog with a tennis ball in its mouth. 

"Just who are you Nnoitra?"

 


	3. Wild Horses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Urahara grinned, smugly, and raised his beer. "Can I buy you a drink?"
> 
> Nnoitra stared and felt his stomach drop with the sudden feeling that this was the beginning of something terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup kind people who give this fic a shot. I hope you enjoy! No real plot just whatever my brain supplies. 
> 
> Fic chapter title from the talented Bishop: Wild Horses
> 
> short chapter.

"That's a good girl, Teresa." Nnoitra coos at his five year old black Labrador. He clips on the leash to her golden collar and they walk out the door of his apartment complex. He still lived close to his old man, considering that the damn DMV still have a hard-on for him and won't approve a driver's license to him, a couple of blocks away in fact. He chose this apartment complex because it allowed pets and for the decent park that the city had made, a small lived campaign to beautify the neighborhood, close by. 

Walking leisurely to the park, Nnoitra nodding here and there to the familiar faces that were out sitting on the stoops. Once at the park he went to that one spot where Teresa could stretch her legs. Unclipping the leash, Nnoitra pulled out a used beat up tennis ball. Teresa's chocolate brown eyes caught sight of it and her sleek black tail started wagging. Grinning Nnoitra drew his arm back before throwing the ball. 

"And she's off." He said softly as his dog became a back blur, speeding after the ball. 

Standing there, Nnoitra thought about how in a few hours he would be heading back to that small house and meeting with that odd man. 

Kisuke Urahara. What a fucking odd fucker. Nnoitra didn't know what to make of the man, or his dancing pineapple underwear. Sure the guy hadn't been  _that_ much of an asshole, considering that Nnoitra had defiled his mattress with Mashiro and her weird sex drive, but that didn't mean that Nnoitra wanted to spend more time with the guy. There was  _something_ about those grey eyes and his shaggy blonde hair that made his skin prickle and a chill run up his spine. The man was hiding something behind that weird as shit cheery persona of his. 

Teresa's wet nose touched his lax hand. Looking down Nnoitra held out a hand and smiled as his best girl dropped the ball perfectly into the middle of his palm. "Such a good girl, Teresa." He cooed giving her a good scratch behind her ears before he threw the ball more than halfway across the small little field. Watching her run, Nnoitra wished he had his phone so he could take a picture. 

Sighing Nnoitra stood and accepted the fact that yes, he would have to subject himself to Urahara and his too happy smiles.

 

* * *

 

Stepping off the bus Nnoitra looked around the clean nice neighborhood and feels like he sticks out like a sore thumb. Dressed in black heavy boots, the ones that are the best at working at a mechanic shop what with all the grease and sparks, loose jeans and a worn t-shirt with a logo that's faded from so many washing's, Nnoitra sets off down the sidewalk. 

He arrives to the house in no time, he long stride eating up the distance, and doesn't waste time in knocking on the door. Nnoitra stares at the door, low key nervous and then annoyed that he's nervous at all, and glares when the door is opened and Urahara looks up at him with a grin.

"You came!" Urahara cheers. 

Nnoitra rolls his eye, "Like I had a fucking choice idiot, you have my damn phone. Now hand it over so I can get gone." He says quickly with a glare. 

Urahara shakes his head with that same cheery grin and creepy chuckle, "You are too much. Come on in, I made dinner." 

Nnoitra's eye narrows, "Um, no. No dinner, no stepping in your damn house. Just give me my shit and I'm gone." 

Urahara responds with that small grin and a hand latching onto Nnoitra's forearm with a strength that surprises the shit of Nnoitra before he's being hauled inside. As the door closes behind him Nnoitra barely has time to breathe in loudly before he's hustled down the hall, into a kitchen and pushed down into a chair. 

"Now I hope you're not too picky," Urahara says as he flits about his kitchen, painted and decorated in nice earthy tones, and grabs two bowels and plates, "but I made a nice tomato and basil soup with grilled cheese sandwiches."

Nnoitra sits there, mouth slightly open like a dumbass, and stares at the man who's humming under his breath as he pours soup into bowls. "The fuck?"

Urahara turns around and places the bowls on the table, quickly followed by the sandwiches. He skips across the kitchen and opens his fridge, bringing out a chilled pitcher of water with slices of lemon floating about in it. "I hope you like it!"

Nnoitra says nothing, because he is right now fucking speechless at the fucking balls this guy must have to grab at him and drag him into his home. "Are you crazy? When someone says no, it means fucking no." Nnoitra says with a hard voice and hands fisting tightly on top of his thighs. 

Urahara looks up, smile on his face and it's only then that Nnoitra sees how fucking tired this dude looks. Heavy bags under his grey eyes, hair shaggier than what Nnoitra guesses is normal and clothes slightly wrinkled. "Please, I-uh" here Urahara stutters, looking away quickly before looking back at Nnoitra, "I don't want to be-"

Nnoitra stares at the man as he trails off, noticing that those grey eyes are bloodshot also, and sighs. Picking up the spoon he scoops up a bit and blows before stuffing it in his mouth. The bright taste of the soup hit's his tongue and Nnoitra makes an appreciative tone because  _fuck_ that is some bombass soup. "Damn son, this is good." Nnoitra says honestly, even if he adds a but more enthusiasm to it. Homeboy looks like he's one word away from a fucking cry fest, and Nnoitra doesn't do cry fests since he was seventeen and graduating early thanks to the grueling hours that Old man Baraggan hoisted on him; walking across the stage, the cap feeling like a crown and the gown just a bit too short on him, and getting his diploma with his old man shouting ' _that's my boy_ ' had made him snivel like a twelve year old. 

Urahara smiles gratefully and they eat in silence. Urahara sneaking glances at him and Nnoitra demolishing the free meal. 

After Nnoitra takes the last bite, washing it down with water, he looks at the other man and puts his elbow on the table and points at him. "Alright, spill."

Urahara chokes on the sip of water he's taking, the water spilling down his chin. 

Nnoitra chuckles meanly and waits for the other man to stop choking. Once he does Nnoitra goes back to the offensive, "So, why all this weird stepford wives shit? What happened on your 'business trip' that got you looking like a beaten down man?"

Urahara takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, "Sorry. I didn't mean to get all," here he waves his hand about, "but just ran into an old acquaintance."

"Riiiiight." Nnoitra says boredly before he gets up and grabs the dishes. At Urahara's inquiring look Nnoitra sighs, "My old man would skin me alive if I didn't wash the dishes after you fed me." 

Urahara grins softly, "You know Nnoitra, since I've met you I haven't been able to figure you out- and I'm  _good_ at figuring people out."

Nnoitra's shoulder's tighten at that, pausing as he soaps up a bowl before continuing. "I ain't complicated man. Just a man living day to day. A man who wants his cellphone back." Nnoitra says pointedly as he rinses the bowl and stacks it on the drying rack.

Urahara scoffs, "I find that hard to believe."

"Well fucking believe it, Urahara." Nnoitra says sharply as he rinses the other bowl and starts on the small plates. 

Urahara eyes the tall, too tall, man with the slender build. He traces the length of the long black hair that shines with the kitchen light and sways softly with Nnoitra's movement's, and drinks in the sight of pale skin wrapped around tight muscles. "What do you work in?"

Nnoitra looks over his shoulder with a suspicious look, "Why? You think I don't got a job?"

Urahara shakes his head, "I'm just curious. At first I thought musician, because of your long slim fingers but you don't look like a musician."

Nnoitra turns back to the sink with a snort, "Yeah, no. I'm a mechanic."

Urahara nods, "You must be a good one."

"Oh _yeah_? How can you tell?" Nnoitra asks sarcastically as he finishes rinsing off the utensils before putting them on the drying rack and turning round to look at the man. His hands are wet but Nnoitra just wipes them dry on his pants.

"The way you say it," Urahara says with smile and bright eyes, "like you genuinely love it. Not many people speak like that way anymore."

"Like what?" Nnoitra asks with that damn chill running up his spine at the look Urahara's throwing at him. 

"With actual emotion and honesty." Urahara answers before he gets up and walks up to the tall man with the dark eye patch and dark long hair. Tipping his head back Urahara can't help but stare at the dark grey eye that stares back down at him; can't help but stare at the thin but pale pink lips that tighten ever so slightly at the attention; can't help but stare at how soft Nnoitra's skin looks, his fingers itching to just reach out and  _touch_ but Urahara doesn't. Instead he looks away and pulls open a drawer. 

Nnoitra forces himself to take a slow even breath after those soft grey eyes look away from him. Fucking hell, it felt like Urahara had traced hot fingers over his skin and mouth. Nnoitra fought back a shiver and pushed down the urge to nervously fidget. Soon those soft grey eyes were back and holding his phone out to him. Grabbing it Nnoitra clenched his jaw when Urahara's other hand grabbed his wrist, holding him in place. 

"Thank you, for staying." Urahara said with a serious look. "I hope that we meet again."

Nnoitra breathed in slowly, chill still running up his spine and skin tightening, "Yeah." Urahara smiled slowly, eyes dark and full of promises that had Nnoitra yanking back his arm and stepping around the blonde. "Gotta go."

"Yes." Urahara said with a bite.

Nnoitra walked down the hall, feeling Urahara's eyes at his back, and out the door. He didn't stop speed walking until he made it to the bus and finally stopped. Breathing in deeply, chest almost heaving, Nnoitra covered his face, "Fuuuuuuuck." Why the fuck did he just fucking agree to meet up again with Urahara? He didn't want to be around the creepy fucker, with his creepy grins and laser eyes that always seemed to be burning across Nnoitra's skin. 

"There's something wrong with me." Nnoitra concluded as the buss arrived and he stepped on. Feeding his bus card to the machine Nnoitra made his way down the aisle and sat down on a window seat, looking out at the dark sky and sighing. 

 

* * *

 

 

Weeks later Nnoitra walked into The Drowning Monkey and felt that same damn chill run up his spine. Eye narrowing he looked around in paranoia and couldn't spot a head full of shaggy hair. Feeling almost hunted Nnoitra nearly ran to the safety of the bar and bared his teeth to a man so he could make room. 

"You good?" Tes asked as he slid a drink to his shifty eyed friend. 

"You see a blonde fucker with light grey eyes and a smug grin?" Nnoitra asked as he grabbed the drink. 

Tes raised a brow at the oddly specific description. "Um...no?"

Nnoitra didn't relax, "He's here. I can fucking  _feel_ it."

Tes raised both brows, and high, "Okaaaaay. Well, I'm just gonna be down there if you need anything." 

Nnoitra grunted as his friend fucking abandoned him. Taking a long drink from his beer, Nnoitra couldn't even scope out the place for an easy fuck. He kept looking about the room, trying to spot the fucker, when suddenly a mouth was caressing his ear and a voice digging deep into his mind. 

"Hello Nnoitra." 

Nnoitra jerked and twirled around. Kisuke fucking Urahara was perched on a bar stool, a fucking bucket hat smashed down on his head and those grey eyes laughing at him. "You." 

Urahara grinned, smugly, and raised his beer. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Nnoitra stared and felt his stomach drop with the sudden feeling that this was the beginning of something terrible.

 

 


	4. Stuck In The Middle With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kisuke was a ball of contradictions. He was a certified genius, and he knew that he felt something for this man. The scientist in him, the genius in him, would never forgive himself if he let this go. So Kisuke did the only thing that he was good at. 
> 
> He plowed on ahead, regardless of the dangers. Kisuke needed to know where this could go, and just like during his academy years he wasn't going to let anything stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from Stuck In The Middle With You by Stealers Wheel. 
> 
> I can't help but think of that scene from Reservoir Dogs and the amazing actor, Michael Madsen. Props to Quentin Taraantino for that film.
> 
> not beta'd

Kisuke Urahara was a ball of contradictions. He was a certified genius, but could be a bit slow on the uptake on basic social interactions. He could become obsessed in his work and go days without actual rest, and then suddenly spend other days during nothing more then lazily move about his house in his underwear. He had a horrible temper that was slow to build, but also quick to fade. He didn't like loud noises but loved being in a crowd, surrounded by people of different walks of life- and tastes- and loved to figure them out.

So, the fact that he couldn't figure out what Nnoitra Gilga was grating. The eye-patch wearing man was simple by any accounts. He was a mechanic that lived in the rough neighborhood in the south, he didn't drive, he drank at a bar called The Drowning Monkey and had a temper that would rival the devil. 

But.

But...

Nnoitra Gilga was the type of man that let Mashiro, of all people, dominate him. He had nothing but amazing beautiful pictures of sunrises and sunsets, of a gorgeous black dog, and loved his craft. He washed dishes after eating, and stayed at his house simply because Nnoitra no doubt felt sorry for how pathetic Kisuke looked. 

It was frustrating and fascinating. 

Kisuke sighed as he looked around his lab, the beakers and flasks glimmering in the artificial light just begging to be held in his capable hands. He had set up his lab in his basement, too lazy to actually leave the house and go to the state of the art work space that he partner- Mayuri- had uptown. Sometimes an idea would blaze in his head and he didn't have time to worry about silly things such as speed limits, or traffic lights. But now that he was here, the bright glare of the computer shedding light on his haggard face, Kisuke's mind only wanted to focus on one thing- Nnoitra. 

Nnoitra Gilga and his long dark hair. Nnoitra Gilga and that derisive little smirk that curled his thin pale lips. Nnoitra Gilga and his too long limbs and powerful broad back. 

Kisuke muttered a low curse and saved his work before powering down his computer. There would be no work to be had today. After making sure that he didn't have any chemicals out or on the burners, Kisuke made his way up the stairs and turned off the light. Running a hand through his shaggy hair Kisuke strode down the hallway and absentmindedly grabbed his keys. He wasn't going to stay home and wallow in whatever the hell was plaguing his mind. 

Locking his house, Kisuke went to his car and went through the motions. Pulling out of his driveway Kisuke kept hi mind carefully blank, stopping at red lights and turning on his signal lights when he needed to turn. Soon enough the shaggy haired man found himself in front of the building that had taken nearly all his life to build. 

Division Twelve Inc. was a creation born of blood, sweat and tears. It was made possible because an old man, Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, had taken a chance on Kisuke.

Professor Yamamoto had seen him once, in the school labs, messing around with equations and had sat down and  _listened_. Listened to the crazy ideas that were always floating about Kisuke's head, not being off-put by the manic energy that seemed to come off him that scared his fellow classmates away. Professor Yamamoto had sat down, gnarled hands calmly placed over the handle of his walking cane, and listened as he spoke; explaining wildly about his idea to fuse two otherwise hostile components by adding a stabilizing chemical. Kisuke had looked like a madman at the time. Hair even longer back than, lank with grease build-up because he had refused to part from the lab for longer than it took to piss. His school uniform was wrinkled beyond belief, stained with god knows what, heavy dark bags under his glittering eyes. The Professor had simply let Kisuke ramble on, eyes focused on his, and at the end of the almost crazed babble stood and asked Kisuke that he had someone that he thought Kisuke would like to meet. Kisuke had been so surprised, and wary, but curious enough that he had followed the older man. They had walked across campus, to where the second years were housed, and into a small cramped classroom where a young man stood hunched over a dissecting pan and wielded a scalpel with a sharpness that had Kisuke intrigued. The second year in front of them had tensed, and slowly turned to look at them. Skin so pale that Kisuke wondered if he ever went outside in the sun, shockingly bright amber colored eyes surrounded by such dark discoloration that it looked bruised, and oddly bright blue dyed hair styled in an undercut. The second year, Kisuke noticed, had two thick gold earrings on each ear. Kisuke was hooked. Professor Yamamoto had introduced Mayuri Kurotsuchi to him, and had said that the Board of Directors of the University had stated that the only way that Mayuri could skip years was that he needed an older student to take mentor ship. When Kisuke asked the younger student why the Directors would place such a condition on him, if he was such a brilliant student, Mayuri had stared at him before a slow dark smile stretched his full lips.  _'They're afraid of me'_.

Since that day, after Kisuke had matched Mayuri's dark grin, they two had become inseparable. The Board of Directors had been forced to advance Mayuri into Kisuke's year, Professor Yamamoto standing at their side as the appointed academic adviser to them. They had created so many things together, independently, and had worked like mules to gather enough money to put down a down payment on a small building that became their first lab and now was where Mayuri and his daughter lived. Professor Yamamoto had helped them navigate real estate agents and the banks, and so they had named the second lab that they had opened in the old man's honor. Division One was a lab solely focused on being a teaching lab, taking in newly graduated men and women and giving them a place to grow enough that they could branch out on their own. Of course Division One would take a small percent of whatever was created within her labs. 

Walking into Division Twelve Kisuke nodded at the receptionist before making way to the entrance into the labs. The smell of chemicals and disinfectant eased Kisuke's mind. The sharp kick to his ass had Kisuke groaning as he turned to give the offender the evil eye. 

"Hiyori, always a pleasure." Kisuke said as he rubbed the sore muscle. 

Hiyori Sarugaki grinned at him, her snaggle tooth in plain view as her brown eyes glowed with glee. "Your stupid face was making an even more stupid expression. What pissed in your coffee boss man?"

Kisuke sighed, if Hiyori wasn't so good at managing everyone's schedule and making sure that everyone adhered to the protocols and guidelines set by the state Kisuke would have fired her since day one. "Where's Mayruin?"

Hiyori gave him a pitying look, "In his office having a freak out."

"What, why?" Kisuke asked as he turned around to head to the offices. 

"Because Nemu is dating a 'bald, good for nothing Neanderthal'." Hiyori said as she quoted her other boss. "Frankly, I don't now why he's got his panties in a bunch, it's not Mayuri is the dating Ikkaku."

Kisuke raised his brows, "I can't believe that Nemu held out so long without Mayruin finding out."

"Wait, you  _knew_?!" Hiyori screeched as she grabbed his forearm to halt their progression. 

Kisuke shrugged, "There's only so many times that Nemu will call out, and take long lunches, before I got curious. I'm surprised Mayurin didn't find out before me."

Hiyori snorted, "Please, that man wouldn't notice what's happening around him even if it bit him in the ass. Beside's he had that special project going on."

They began walking again and soon they could hear Mayuri yelling from down the hall.

"-Wrong with you!" Mayuri yelled. "Where did you even meet him?"

"He likes to walk in the park close by our house. He saw me having trouble carrying the groceries and he helped him carry them. He's a gentlemen." Nemu said lowly, her blue eyes fixed onto her fathers name plate even as her heart raced a mile a minute. 

Mayuri scoffed, "A  _gentlemen_? I doubt that Nemu. I know men like that, and he's just a brash ignorant man waiting to prey on women like you."

Kisuke could see Nemu's hunched form from where he stood and he decided that he needed to step in. "Now, now Mayurin," Kisuke said smoothly as he stood next to the young woman that called him uncle, "you haven't met the young man." He looked to his long time friend, noticing how different he had become since that day in the academy. Mayuri persisted in dying his hair blue, but had it grow out of the under cut to the point where Kisuke and he shared the same hair style. His pale skin and tanned to the point where it glowed with a healthy sun kissed tone. Kisuke and Mayuri, now, had often been mistaken for blood brothers; that they were each others chosen family had only cemented the feeling. 

Mayuri turned to glare at him, "Stay out of this Kisuke."

Kisuke shook his head, laying a hand on Nemu's shoulder. "I can't, not when I see my darling little niece trying so hard to stand up to you. The least I can do is give her support and be willing to listen to her reasons for keeping this from us."

Mayuri rolled his eyes, "Oh please, don't give me that nonsense. Nemu is my daughter, as such I don't need to get to know this... _Ikkaku_...person to know that he isn't worth her time." Mayuri turned his bright amber eyes, burning gold with the sunlight filtering in through the window, onto his quiet little girl. "Besides, what kind of a man can he be if Nemu went to such lengths to conceal his existence? Not just from me, but also from you- her beloved Uncle?" Mayuri asked calmly as he leaned back against his chair. 

Kisuke blinked and conceded that Mayuri had a point. By hiding this form them, it only showed that Nemu didn't trust them, trust her romantic partner, or the relationship. "Your father has a point. You are far too old to be acting like a rebellious teenager Nemu."

Hiyori, who had long since taken a seat and looked at them with a bored gaze, scoffed. "Nemu did this not because she's ashamed of the guy." Hiyori said before she called them idiots under her breath.

Mayuri gave the woman a narrowed look. " _Oh_? So, then why did she Hiyori? Since it seems as if you, of all people, know more about relationships with the opposite sex." Mayuri said with a mocking grin to the woman that had walked into their lives accompanied by the old man. Yamamoto had thrown them the she-devil, fresh out of school and with a violent gleam in her eye, and had assured them that she would take care of the legalities of the business. Mayuri had taken one look at the short demon girl, who had her blonde locks styled into two ponytails, and known that she was going to be a major pain in his ass. Twenty odd years later and Mayuri had been proven correct, but- and under pain of death- he wouldn't trade the she-devil for anyone else.  

Hiyori raised a brow and grinned meanly, "Oh, how long did it take you to think that up?" Hiyori chuckled meanly before looking to Nemu, remembering how devastated Mayuri had been at the hospital when his fiance had died during the childbirth and he didn't know how to raise a baby. Hiyori had steeled herself and had taken charge. Hiyori had taken care of getting the birth papers, of handling the funeral arrangements, of getting baby clothes and food, of selecting a doctor. Hiyori had mothered Nemu, Kisuke stepping in quietly when Mayuri needed to grieve his lost love. Nemu never called Hiyori Mother, instead she called her Mama Hiyori; and Mayuri never said a word because he knew that Nemu needed a mother. So that's why Hiyori hadn't said a word when she had seen a bald man that looking anxious as he stood outside the building with a single sunflower clutched in his hand; because she had seen how  _happy_ Nemu had looked when she had seen him. "Nemu did this, without telling you, because she knew how over dramatic you two would act. You're so embarrassing."

Mayuri and Kisuke both stuttered and threw her offended looks. 

"She didn't tell you either!" Mayuri shouted. 

"I am not over dramatic!" Kisuke wailed as he clutched his chest. 

Hiyori rolled her eyes, "And do you see me crying and hurt that she didn't? This is something that is personal for her. Something that has nothing to do with us," here Hiyori looked at her pseudo-daughter, who looked back at her with an apology in her blue eyes that shined with tears, "and I was okay with waiting until she decided to come to me with it."

"I'm sorry." Nemu said staring at the woman who was a mother to her, who had taught her all there was to know about being a woman. 

Hiyori gave a soft smile, "Oh sweetie, I'm not mad."

"Well I am." Mayuri couldn't help but say. 

Kisuke rolled his eyes, "Are we gong to meet this young man anytime soon?"

Mayuri flared his nostrils. 

Nemu looked at her father quickly, "I was hoping...we could all have dinner together. A family dinner. He's bringing his brother, his Uncle and cousin."

Hiyori shot a look at Mayuri and Kisuke that threatened bodily injury if he dared say no. Kisuke heeded the look, Mayuri glared back before throwing his arms up in defeat. 

"Are we allowed to know their names?" Kisuke couldn't help but needle. 

Nemu blushed, "Ikkaku Madarame. His brother is called Yumichika Ayasegawa, they're half brothers," Nemu cut in before her father could, "and their Uncle is Kenpachi Zaraki. His cousin is Mr. Zaraki's daughter is called Yachiru."

Kisuke nodded along, letting the flow of the conversation and the dinner plans fill him up. All day, hearing about Nemu and her beau and working with Mayuri, he had to forcibly push the memory of that damnable smirk, and dark grey eye staring down at him as if Kisuke was no one impressive, out f his mind. It wasn't until later, hours later, when he was climbing into his car that he finally gave in.

He was going to The Drowning Monkey. 

 

* * *

 

Kisuke had grabbed his lucky hat and pushed it down his head. Walking into the smoke filled bar, the smell of ash and hot bodies sending him reeling for a second, Kisuke looked around in curiosity. He had never been in a bar like this, too busy burning daylight hours in the lab with Mayuri, and he was fascinated. He could see a couple of suits at the bar and scattered among the tables and booth; he could see hardened men and women with leather cuts on their backs and cigarettes clamped down between slightly yellowed teeth. Kisuke made his way to the bar, claiming an empty spot that opened up when a couple went staggering out the door. 

"What'll you have?" 

Kisuke looked into soft brown eyes, "Whatever you have on draft."

The bar tender nodded, a scar running down his right cheek and stopping at his jaw. "Coming up."

Kisuke gave a quiet thanks and took a sip of the beer. He resisted making a face and kept drinking, wondering if the objective of his thoughts would make an appearance. 

It was as Kisuke had drank half his beer that felt the very air shift. Taking a calming breath, and just why did he have to  _calm_ down Kisuke thought to himself, he resisted the insane urge to turn around and gawk at the man. He sat facing the bar, cup lifted to cover half his face, and saw in the mirror how Nnoitra practically snarled at a man to move out of his seat. Kisuke licked his lips and then frowned as to why he did. Kisuke liked to flirt with anyone, liked seeing how flustered they got, but he had never truly felt any attraction to anyone of the same sex. 

Why this man?

Kisuke wasn't even sure that it  _was_ attraction. But the more he stared at Nnoitra, the more Kisuke came to the conclusion that yes- he wanted to trail his hands all over the eye patch wearing man and smell his hair. Kisuke doubted that that response was normal to have of a person that one didn't have an attraction for. 

So, as he sat in his revelation of his attraction to the long haired man amidst a smoky beer stained bar Kisuke couldn't help but lean forward. He took in a deep breath, smelling the other man, and felt the delicate skin of Nnoitra's ear against his lips. "Hello Nnoitra." Kisuke withheld the sigh of disappointment when the other man flinched and moved away from him. 

"You." Nnoitra said grimly with a slightly dumbfounded expression. 

Kisuke grinned and raised his beer, "Can I buy you a drink?"

Kisuke was a ball of contradictions. He was a certified genius, and he knew that he felt something for this man. The scientist in him, the genius in him, would never forgive himself if he let this go. So Kisuke did the only thing that he was good at. 

He plowed on ahead, regardless of the dangers. Kisuke needed to  ** _know_** where this could go, and just like during his academy years he wasn't going to let anything stop him. 


End file.
